


Fly Away

by tasteful_bear



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Broken Families, Bullying, Daydreaming, Domestic Violence, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteful_bear/pseuds/tasteful_bear
Summary: "Let's fly away together and leave these days forever"----------------Daniel Howell has dreams.Philip Lester has them too.Daniel Howell is hurting.Philip Lester hurts too.One dreams in the day, of bright colours.One dreams in the night of having others.They both need help..Will they help one another?--------OR: Dan is badly bullied at his highschool. He has no friends and has a horrible habit of daydreaming. Phil comes from a broken family who don't accept him but when he moves to his new school he's determined to change for the better.





	1. Escape From Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Heya everyone!  
> This is my first ever fic so sorry if its not awesome >. < Just wanted to put myself out there and give writing a go.As im not sure of the whole plot yet and all i will add more tags as i go along and ill be sure to add warnings if there is anything that requires it :)
> 
> I am very open to feedback, both negative and positive, so please let me know what you think.
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short too...i promise in future they will be longer! This chapter sort of just sets the scene for the whole thing i guess :)
> 
> Anyways, enough of my useless blabber, enjoy!!  
> TB ^^

##### Dan's POV

I'm flying like a bird, up high in the sky. Fearless and brave, never a doubt in my heart. Swooping down to the ground I land gracefully upon my feet. I feel strong and alive, but most of all I feel free. Free to be me without any limits or boundaries. Nothing is impossible right now, nothing else matters except me and  
th-…..

 **"Daniel!!"** ).  
A voice pierces through my thoughts and my eyes shoot open. I blink hurriedly, my eyes adjusting to the light. Muttering a soft apology, I return my focus to the paper in front of me continuing to answer the numerous questions lining the sheet. Aware of the stares I was getting from my classmates, I keep my head down and silently curse myself for the habit I have. 

_Day-dreaming._

My mind is my sanctuary, my safe place, my home. It shelters me from the world, from all the jealousy and hate, pain and sorrow. It leads me to escape my life and be whoever I want, whenever I want, doing whatever I want, without any of the judgements that dictate our world based on stereotypes and rumours. Whenever I close my eyes I enter into my mind, a place of freedom where the impossible doesn't exist; where I can escape reality.

Hugging my books close to my chest I walk out of the classroom. As expected, I receive the usual push and shove that could most definitely not be an accident. Rough hands suddendly grip onto my shoulders. A startling shiver skims down my spine. I don't even need to look to know who stands behind me, his body looming like a dark shadow. I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a hoarse stuttered whisper.  
“Can I help you Luke?”  
He spat back like a snake, fangs barred ready to attack and words like venom full of poison and hate.  
“Oh, I was just wondering when you were going to get that stupid little head of yours out of the clouds.”

A sharp pain collides with my cheek, the impact causing me to stumble. The sound of mocking laughter fills my ears, hateful profanities spilling out of the mouths of onlooking students. Luke's gravelly chuckle trails off down the hallway as he strides away, a mob of students following his lead.

I lean against the wall and slowly sit down, eyes welling with tears. Every word and every laugh replays through my mind, each one like a small pinprick in my heart. Wiping a tear from my cheek, I slowly close my eyes, willing myself to enter my mind and imagination, my safe place, my warm place, my free place, my place.


	2. Everything's Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya all!  
> So this chapter is a bit of insight into Phil's life...it will be discussed more in depth though later :)  
> Enjoy!  
> ~TB
> 
> **NOTE:** Warning for referenced/implied abuse, domestic violence and homophobia

##### Phil's POV

_Yelling. Screaming. Tear stained faces. Agony. Pain. Sadness. Hurt._  
Those words are what my childhood memories consist of.  
All the other kids lives were filled with laughter and open arms to rush into after a joyous day of learning. My life was black and blue, bruises littering the fragile innocence of evil that a child should have.

When I was younger I didn’t understand what was happening, if anything I thought my life was normal. Didn’t all fathers yell and hit their children? Didn’t all mothers live under the fear of their husbands anger? Didn’t all parents drown their sorrows in glass bottles? Didn’t all children live in fear of their family?

I still remember the first time I saw it happen...the first time I saw my dad lash out. I was only four at the time but the memory still sticks with me, engraved in my brain. He had anger written all over his face, a harsh scowl upon his features. In one hand he held a green bottle, in the other my mums fragile wrist. The rest is a vivid blur; shattering glass, balled fists, screaming and crying, yelling and a harsh blow. My mums frail body fell to the ground. I ran towards her in fear. She told me those two words that have been repeated to me as a mantra my whole life. Two words that I have come to hate and loathe with the untruth they hold. 

_**“Everything’s fine”** _

Yet nothing is ever fine. It never has been and it never will be. From that fateful day I saw it become more frequent. A hit to my mum. Another bottle thrown. A hit to my brother. Another scream. A hit to my face, a kick to my chest. _Pain, pain, pain_. Constant pain until I was numb with it. 

I went to school, like any other kid. I pretended that everything was fine, and people believed it. As I grew older I realised that I was different. I didn’t have a family to care for me the way Tim did and I didn’t have hobbies like Joe. I didn’t have a group of friends like Rose did and I didn’t have a cool room like James. My older brother, Martyn, noticed it too. The spark of hatred for my parents began then. It wasn’t much...just a little flicker each time I was yelled at and beaten or felt the gap between myself and normalcy gain distance. But that fire of loathing grew. The slithers of childhood slipped away leaving me as a cold, hard shell of a boy with a hateful fire buried into my heart. 

So, like any boy resenting his parents would do, I started to rebel. I pushed the boundaries further, I wasn’t afraid to disrespect anyone who dared come close to me. It only resulted in more pain, more blows to the head, more blood to stain the carpet. I decided that I didn’t care anymore.  
Martyn did the opposite. He became increasingly shy and quiet, he hid away from his problems and cowered in the corner at my fathers harsh words. But I stood up to those words, as much as a thirteen year old boy could anyways. Although my hard exterior could withhold the pain, what remained inside could not.

Every night it got worse, the fear and sadness enveloping my mind as I slept. Dreams of angry faces and crying eyes, of blood and pain filled my nights. When I slept I longed for something more. I dreamt of the closeness of others, a concept so foreign to my conscious mind. The longing became so desperate that it felt better not to sleep at all then to have the false security of belonging.

I continued to rebel, adding collections of ink onto my skin and cold metal piercings to my body. Who cares if it was illegal at my age? Who cares if my brothers glances became more scared and pleading? Who cares if my beatings grew in number and force? I didn’t care...and I still don’t.

The older I got the more things changed. I shut anyone out who got close to me. I let the numbness of the abuse and pain take over. I became more distant, but most of all, I became even more _different_. Not only did I not have the caring family and perfect home, no, I also lacked the desires of all my peers and their morals. They all wanted girls, women to fantasise about, but I didn’t. They described how they felt when they looked at them yet I never felt this...well I did...just not in the way they did. The feelings of lust they described where what I felt as a looked upon my peers of my gender. _Other boys._

I knew it was wrong, it had been something I had heard from both my parents as something evil and sinful. But after everything else I had done that they hadn’t approved of, being gay was just something they would have to deal with. It wasn’t like I had to tell them anyways. And that’s exactly what happened. I didn’t tell them...but I made one big mistake...

I still told **someone.**

And that someone was Martyn. I was fifteen at the time. I pulled him aside one night and told him what was happening, explained, as best as I could, how I was attracted to guys, how I was gay. He was quiet yet understanding about the matter and he told me that everything was going to be fine.

But now I know I can’t trust those words. _Fine_ is just a concept, and abstract ideal of everything being just the way you want it to be. _Fine_ doesn’t exist, not in my life anyways. _Fine_ is a lie. 

Mum said **everything was fine** and it wasn’t.

Martyn said **everything was fine** too....I should have known that it wasn’t.

Because exactly eight months ago, nothing was fine. That day, exactly eight months ago turned the fire in my heart into a raging wildfire, an uncontrollable blaze. That day left memories like burns brandished in my brain. That day, Martyn let it slip. That day I felt pain like I never have before. That day I became number than ever. That day I felt ashamed, shunned and hurt. That day, exactly eight months ago, I ran, my brothers pleading eyes staring up at me and my parents glares of pure hatred and disgust burning into the back of my skull.

I ran. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. My legs burned and my lungs ached for oxygen, but I kept running. 

And that’s how I have ended up where I am now, standing in front of looming school gates in London city. I don’t want to be here but I can’t afford not to. The workers say _everything will be fine_ but I know from experience that it won’t be, but that’s okay. Nothing is fine, nothing is **ever** fine. 

_Fine_ will never exist for me. But maybe, just maybe, I can give myself a fresh start and for once, let go of my past and embrace whatever my useless life has left to offer.


	3. First Gazes & Confused Hazes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter has taken a while to post, ive been really busy  
> In this chapter the actual story kicks off instead of just the fluffy backstory stuff from the last two chapters.  
> Hope you all enjoy!  
> ~tb
> 
> CHAPTER KEY:  
> - _this writing_ \- means the characters thoughts/conscience (idk how to describe it better, hopefully that makes sense)  
> - **-this writing** means a point that is highlighted and accentuated to stand out and make a point
> 
>  
> 
> **NOTE:**
> 
>  
> 
> \- this chapter deals with themes of bullying (no graphic violence)
> 
> \- i am from Australia so i dont fully understand the schooling system in the UK. For school holiday times and such I used a website as reference. The link is: https://blog.holidaylettings.co.uk/uk-school-holidays-2017-2018/  
> Feel free to check that out if you are confused about anything relating the school terms ect!

##### Dan's POV

_**BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEP!!!** _

The obnoxious glaring sound of my alarm clock pulls me out of my pleasant sleep, filling me with a sense of complete dread. I carelessly hit the alarm clock, not caring as it gets knocked off my dresser and crashed to the floor. I really don’t want to get up. Not just because I’m cosy and warm, cocooned among my duvet but because it is the first day back at school since half-term break of my second term. I lazily sit up, the shock of the cold air hitting my bare back. _God its fucking freezing!_ I reach out for my phone and double check the date... _Please don’t be February 24th! Please don’t be Fe-_ “Bloody hell” I groan, pulling the duvet back over my head, collapsing back into my pillow. Maybe if I stay under here long enough the date will magically change. I cautiously peak my head out and check the date one more time _...Still the freaking same..._ I run a tired hand down my face and stare up at my ceiling, admiring the familiar glow-in-the-dark stars I have had stuck there that I had gotten for my 7th Birthday... _Back when life was good...._

Thinking back to those times are bittersweet for me. Sure, I was a happy child but I’m not happy anymore. Mum says I always had a smile on my face. _Where had that smile gone?_ It is still their, but it only peaks out occasionally (at least the real ones that is). It’s in times when I’m in my own head that it starts to emerge. Maybe just a little hint of a smirk, but it’s something. These moments inside my own head are the only real safe place for me. It’s limitless there you see, tailored and moulded to fit me perfectly. There’s no school, no homework, no judgments or stereotypes...no people teasing or bullying me... _No Luke, thank God_... This place in my head really does work as a great escape route from reality but it can get out of hand, especially lately. Most people don’t really take a day-dreaming sixteen year old boy very seriously you see, especially not strict teachers or immature peers. No one really gets that I’m not just getting distracted off with the fairies in la-la land. They don’t understand that it’s really me shutting down from the outside world and getting completely isolated from my surroundings by my own head. 

A timid knock on my door abruptly snaps me out of my trance and I start to shift back to reality. The familiar lilting sound of my mother’s voice rings out through the door, calling out to me. “I hope you’re up in there Daniel! Don’t want you missing it on your first day back to your second half of the term now would we bear?” _I’m not quite up actually...I’d much rather stay here and wallow in my thoughts..._ “I’ll be down for breakfast in a minute mum!” I call back, my voice still lined with the croaky sound of sleepiness.

Begrudgingly, I peel off my duvet, standing up and yawning. Grabbing the first thing I find (a black and white striped sweater and my usual black skinny jeans), I slip the items over my body and run a hand through my unruly mop of brown curls. Glancing at the time I curse under my breath. I’m running late enough that I really don’t have time to straighten my hair. Quickly, I look across to the mirror above my cabinet. _I look really shit..._ Dark purplish lines are painted thickly under my eyes, evident tiredness written all over my face. _Obviously the week long break did nothing good._ Sighing, I chuck on a pair of shoes and grab my phone before heading downstairs. 

I’m greeted in the kitchen by the familiar sight of my dad reading the newspaper on the couch, my mum standing in the kitchen and my younger brother Andrew sat at the old wooden table. Though the sight warms my heart, it’s effects don’t come close to the looming threat of school. _I don’t want to go back to that hell-hole!_

What makes it so hellish you ask? My answer: Litch-rally **everything** [AN: sry I had too hehe]. No, not the everything that every teenager complains about in context to school (although I agree with that also), it’s the way that I’m treated. Ever since I can remember I’ve been teased. At first, in primary school it was more innocent. They thought I was weird or they teased me for the sound of my voice. But when high school hit, well, that was when hell started. Maybe it was just my introverted nature, maybe my awkwardness or maybe some other unknown feature I don’t know about, but I was the prey of my peers since day one. When everyone kinda hates you for some unknown reason, it starts to get to you. Well at least, it really started to get to me. I started to blame what they did on myself, and as a result became even more withdrawn and scared. The disappointment and hate I felt for myself grew each day. With every shove in the hallway another part of me shattered. With every punch to the face I lost another part of me. With every push to the ground a piece of me would break away. The taunts they used and the profanities they confessed drilled into me, creating a mantra of all they said and did. _You’re not good enough Dan! You’re a mistake! Wimp! Pussy! Useless! Coward! Gay! Weak! Not good enough, not good enough,_ _ **never good enough.**_ What I started to feel was pure hatred, not for the people who hurt me, but for myself.

This spiral of my self-loathing and depression continued. I caved in, finding sanctuary in my thoughts and dreams. I tuned out of the world, switching off my surroundings and instead filling my eyes with bright colours and happy places. Places of acceptance and happiness, of peace and equality. I started to day-dream, escaping from my world. They noticed, the bully’s that is. They noticed the way I retreated into my head and the way my mouth might occasionally tease the idea of a smile, a small slither of happiness crossing my face. This gave them a new lead, a new point to criticise me on. _Get that pretty little head of yours out of the fucking clouds Howell! Off with the fairy’s again are we?_ I didn’t care anymore though. My daydreams were my only safe place and I wasn’t giving that up, it would surely hurt even more than the bruises they left on my skin.

And indeed it has hurt less. I thirst and savour for those precious moments of absolute freedom I can experience through my day-dreams. It hurts afterwards but the slither of hope I receive is well worth it. 

I quickly shovel down some cereal and send my mum a quick thanks and goodbye before rushing out the door and begin my trek to school. I soon slip into the steady rhythm of my footfall along the shaded footpath, letting the constant mantra ground me. Consistency is something that I greatly appreciate in life but I rarely receive it. It is times like this, when I can tune into something unwavering yet still in my control that I start to feel more at ease. I slowly let the sound lull me into a secure and distant bliss, the sound of my feet against the concrete the only thing keeping me connected to the real world. My eyes adjust to new surroundings, ones created in my own head that are filled with bright colours and hues that calm me. Shades of green grass can be seen in a distant field, sat amongst it my family, the only people who I love that love me back. Bright blue skies sweep overhead and golden sunshine filter through orange and yellow autumn leaves. Animals skitter around and birds swoop across meadows filled with thousands of beautiful flowers. The pleasant image calms me and grants me the most relaxation I have felt this morning. A small smile tugs at my lips as I turn the corner and enter the school gates, the blissful images still swimming in my mind.

“Hey Howell!” A voice yells out, startling me out of my day dream. I know that voice all too well, and well enough to know that when I hear it I should veer away...as fast as possible. I start to walk faster, nervously clutching onto the straps of my bag. _Please don’t follow me, please don’t follo-_ “You’re not getting away that easily you know” a hand pulls me back by my backpack, matching the voice of my number one bully. “Especially after your little display after I knocked some sense into you...you think I would forget that shit after only four days?!” _Fuck...he saw me crying..._ His hand yanks my bag even harder than before, bringing me to a halt. “You planning on answering me or are you just going to ignore me you little bitch!” A crowd starts to gather around us, curious to watch the spectacle. “P..please Luke....Just leave me alone...” In let out a defeated sigh and stare at my shoes. _Why can’t he just leave me be for once...no...why can’t I fucking stand up to him for once?_

###### 

##### Phil's POV 

I stare up at the school gates in front of me. I can feel the shelter worker’s stare at the back of my head. There’s really no point in trying not to go, not unless I want to end up how I was three months ago. _Fuck it._ I stride into the unfamiliar school. It seems average enough, nothing much different from my school back in Manchester. _Except for the fact that my life was literal hell there..._ maybe this can be my chance at something better, that’s what the workers say I should do anyways. No one here has to know anything about me or my past, I can start fresh.

Students litter the schoolyard, many of them suddenly staring at me as I walk towards the office. I can tell their afraid, scared of me. Everyone at my old school was too. Who wouldn’t be scared of a jet black haired boy covered in tattoos and piercings, decked out in a very old leather jacket and worn skinny jeans, scuffed heavy black boots to top it off. I then notice a large clustered group of people, none of which (thankfully) are paying attention to me. As I walk past I can’t help but glance over the tops of peoples heads and see what’s happening. What can I say, I’m just a very curious person. 

Inside of the mob stand two boys. One is big and buff, clearly some kind of sports player. Tank top and all, he seems like a real jerk. He looks angry and pissed of yet also has a smirk on his lips that look like they’re holding back a cynical laugh. The other boy is tall, but still taller that the other. He has a smaller and slighter build and is wearing an oversized sweater. The bigger guy has his hands latched onto the others backpack and the other boy looks like he’s struggling. _Oh well, nothing much I can do about that anyways._ The smaller boy jerks his head up, eyes searching the crowd desperately. His eyes suddenly meet mine, our gazing locking together. Even from my distance, I can’t help but notice his deep mahogany eyes staring up at me. They’re pleading, almost begging for help and the bigger guy holds his hands behind his back. His other hand is tugging not-so-gently at the slighter boy’s hair, pulling his head back and straining his neck.

“Are you gonna admit it or are you too much of a wimp?” The buff guys voice rings out clear among the anxious silence of the crowd. I watch as he yanks the other boys head back further, a small whimper coming from his slightly parted lips. “Fucking pussy, that’s what you are Howell!” My eyes remain locked on those rich mahogany eyes as they plead even more, swimming with a mix of fear and pain. I don’t even register it but I start to walk forward, involuntarily pushing through the large crowd that has gathered around the scene. _Maybe just this once I can help someone....maybe just this once I can make a change..._

###### 

##### Dan's POV 

I whimper as Luke yanks my head back, pain shooting through my neck. “Fucking pussy, that’s what you are Howell!” I stare up at those blue eyes.... _so so blue...just like the summer sky...._ I gaze into them, longingly and desperately, and they start to become clearer, bigger.... _Is he getting...closer??_ Before I can even properly register his approach, he’s right in front of me. I can see bits of green and yellow amongst his blue orbs staring back into my eyes. Suddenly his gaze shifts and I’m broken out of my trance.

“I said let him fucking go!” The unfamiliar voice brings me back into the scene. The blue-eyed boy is standing in front of me, glaring daggers at Luke. I can finally hear whispers throughout the crowd that has gathered and I can understand why. No one **ever** stood up to Luke...not ever... _especially not for someone like me._ I feel the grip on my hair and my hands loosen and look up at the boy. His jet black hair frames his pale face, his jaw hard set and straining with anger. _I’ve never seen him before..._ “Who a-are you?” I hear Luke say, trying to appear confident. I don’t miss the slight waver in his voice, the obvious fear lacing his words. “I’m someone you don’t want to fuck around with, okay? Now did you hear me, or do I need to say it again?” The mysterious boy’s voice is the opposite, his reply filled with purpose. Hearing a small gulp behind me I almost smile...almost.. The boy suddenly steps even closer to Luke, taking three steps before landing right in front of Luke and glaring into his eyes. Each step was accentuated with a word... “Let. Him. Go” 

Luke completely let’s go of his grip and I fall to the ground. I look behind me to see Luke mumbling something about ‘next time’ as he stalks off with his group of jerks. My eyes once again lock with stunning blue ones.... 

_Why did he help me..?_

###### 

##### Phil's POV 

_Why did I help him..?_

My mind suddenly catches up with the past few minutes, processing all of the events that just took place. I look down to the boy who was now sat on the ground. His mahogany brown eyes once again lock with mine. Tearing my gaze away, I say, perhaps too harshly, “Don’t think I’ll be running around saving you anymore kid. Just count yourself lucky this time.” I storm off, pushing my way back through the mob of people and make my way as fast as I can to the main office to sign in. 

What was I thinking, helping him?! _You weren’t thinking Phil, that’s what..._ Sighing, I talk to the office woman and fill out the necsisary forms before signing in and heading to my first class. As I walk, no matter how I try, I can’t stop thinking about those deep mahogany eyes. Shifting back into my usual demeanour, I stride through the halls and watch as kids stare at me with curiosity and fear. People have always been afraid of me, I guess that’s the result of my attitude and my appearance. Being covered in tattoos and piercings doesn’t exactly scream nice, lovely person that you want to be friends with. Usually it doesn’t bother me that people view me this way, but as I walk off to class I don’t find any comfort in peoples fearful gazes. This desire to be cared about and to belong scares me, it’s the same emotions that always manage to deep into my dreams. But I can’t shake it, I can’t shake this feeling of wishing that just **someone** could see me as a real person and be an ally instead of an enemy. My thoughts return to those rich brown eyes and I quickly shake my head and sit down at the back of the classroom. _What have I gotten myself into?....._  



End file.
